


Fire On Fire

by WolfstarGarden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Anal Sex, Ballet, Bottoming, Comfort, Control Issues, Crushes, Dancing, Desire, Feelings, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Remus Lupin & James Potter Friendship, Remus is neurotic in the sweetest way, Rimming, Romance, Smut, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 05:37:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19100782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfstarGarden/pseuds/WolfstarGarden
Summary: Sirius’ frown deepened. After a moment he murmured in a low voice, “I don’t understand you at all, Remus Lupin. Oh, but I would so very like to.”A flush crawled boiling heat up Remus’ neck as he fumbled for an answer. “Goodness Sirius ... I’m no one special.”Sirius’ gaze didn’t waver. He said simply, “I think you could be very special to me.”





	Fire On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I've gone back and forth on this one so much, but a few kind people have given good encouragement. Please enjoy.
> 
> I discovered the song _after_ I finished writing it, and actually changed the title because omg, Sam Smith people. Also, blatantly Australian, just 'cause.

Remus stared dumbly at the wall. The news refused to process. Finally, aggressive words burst from him. “Only teenagers get stress fractures!”

Throwing Remus a disapproving glance, Pomfrey replied briskly, “So do principals who don’t look after themselves.”

“I look after myself.” Remus frowned in kind. “I wouldn’t be where I am if I didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t be _here_ right now if you did,” Pomfrey insisted, gesticulating at her office. “A Snickers bar does not count as nutrition, Remus.”

Scowling, Remus tried to ignore the distress setting fire to his insides. He forced himself to ask the question he didn’t want the answer to. “How long?”

“It depends,” Pomfrey said. “But it’ll be faster if you consider surgery.”

Remus pressed parched lips together. There was nothing to consider.

l-l

Despite his easy decision, Remus overflowed with irrational bitterness. James got to endure the brunt of his venting, while Remus ensured his other friends only saw a mask of false acceptance.  

James was not sympathetic. “You know better than to go that hard after coming off break. And you don’t listen when I tell you to eat better. I notice, you know, when you forget to take care of yourself.”

“Fuck off,” Remus grumbled, giving his broken foot a petulant scowl. It throbbed in reply, pressed between the armrest of their well-worn chesterfield and an ice pack. Hindsight would not change the fact that he was out of auditions and looking at weeks of rehab right at the top of the season.

“Look, it’s not that bad,” James said, reading him too easily. “You’re gonna be brilliant with the coaching.”

After hearing about Remus’ injury, their artistic director had made an uncharacteristically generous invitation and asked him to assist with coaching their first performance. The rest of his time would be spent in observation, pool barre and conditioning. “I guess,” Remus grumbled.

Offering him a gentle smile, James changed topics. “Shame you’ll miss the new guy’s first day, huh?”

“I saw him today,” Remus said. “They were screening him when I got to Pomfrey’s office.”

“Oh yeah?” James arched an eyebrow and blinked at Remus. “What’s he like?”

Remus made a noise of disinterest, not willing to admit that he’d deliberately avoided the man. “I didn’t get a chance to speak to him before Pomfrey was laying into me.”

James’ gaze turned wry. “Didn’t want him seeing you at less than your best, huh?”

“Something like that,” Remus admitted.

James eyed him for another moment then shook his head. “Never mind, Moony. C’mon, it’s been a long day. I’ll help you into bed.”

l-l

Monday-week saw Remus back in the studio, hobbling along with a crutch and a boot and bruising pain radiating up his leg from the foreign objects implanted into his fractured bones.

Deep in conversation with McGonagall, Remus was successfully ignoring his self-consciousness until James bounded over, flushed from pre-class Pilates. “Moony, you’re back! Place just doesn’t feel the same without you.”

“You’re interrupting us, Potter,” McGonagall said, the warmth in her eyes belying her stern tone. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, James shrugged happily. “Class isn’t for ten whole minutes yet. Besides Moony – I want to introduce you to your replacement.”

An unpleasant chill rattled down Remus’ spine and McGonagall’s brow pulled tight – but before either could respond the new dancer approached them. Long hair unravelled around his broad-grinning face. “You’re Remus Lupin,” he beamed, offering a handshake.

“Yes.” Taken aback, Remus was slow to grasp his hand. He turned to James, a twist of displeasure pulling his brow. “My _replacement_?”

“Potter, you need to learn to mind your tongue,” McGonagall said tersely.

“This is Sirius Black,” James clarified, offering their teacher a disarming smile. “Cast list was posted this morning and he’s partnered with Alice.”

“Oh,” Remus said. He stared at the strong fingers wrapped warm and steady around his own and tried to feel anything apart from hollow disappointment. McGonagall dismissed herself and marched away to prepare class.

Digging deep, Remus managed a charitable tone. “I’ve seen you dance,” he murmured. He passed a surreptitious, critical eye across Sirius as he drew his hand back.

“Oh yes?” Sirius grinned. “And were you suitably impressed?”

Remus’ answer died on his lips as Sirius gave him a far more obvious once-over. His eyes lingered on Remus’ injured foot. Irrational shame dragged a burning flush across his skin, and instead Remus replied with a defensive snap. “Your pointe work in _The Dream_ was good. You make an excellent Bottom.”

“ _Moony_ ,” James said, his voice a gleaming mix of awe and horror and amusement.

Sirius paused, biting his lip. Betraying nothing, his eyes locked with Remus’ as he weighed up the innuendo and finally answered evenly, “Yes, I do. I’d be happy to show you.”

Impressed, Remus successfully hid behind a bored shrug. “I don’t think so. I’ll see you move in class.”

A slow smile crept across Sirius’ mouth. “Are you going to watch me?”

Heart thudding, Remus was glad when they were interrupted: “Moony!” Lithe and warm, Alice skipped into his arms.

“Hello Lissy,” he said, smiling as he hugged her.

“Good to see you back,” she murmured. “Oh, it’s such a shame we won’t be opening the season together.”

Sirius’ gaze weighed heavy on him. Feeling it, Remus muttered, “Well, you might prefer your new partner.”

Stepping back, Alice gave him a narrow glare. “Well, how do I respond to that without offending someone? Just get better, would you?”

“I’m doing my darndest,” Remus said mildly.

“Good. The fans will flock out to see us once you’re back.” They were a proven sell-out pair, but Alice’s optimism only made Remus feel more inadequate.

The feeling intensified as he sat through barre. Not being able to participate burned in his unsatisfied muscles. Worse, observation was not enough to keep his mind from being preoccupied by Sirius. His movements were strong and smooth, the ideal balance of grace and power. Seeing him up close, Remus really _was_ impressed. Face, physique and finesse – he had no doubt Sirius was going to be a true boon to their company.

A twinge of something bitter twisted in Remus’ blood, but it was aimed at himself. On its heels came something far more annoying – desire. Sirius was definitely the kind of person that parts of Remus just begged to be allowed to lick.

He was going to have to ignore those bits.

But it was easier said than done with Sirius flexing and sweating and wearing only the barest layers of clothing. It was something of a blessing when class ended. Sirius shook his muscles out and slid himself into an over-sized hoodie, arrogantly appliquéd across the back with ‘ _Danseur Étoile_ ’.

“Moony.” James bounced over to him, scrubbing a towel impatiently across his chest. “Come down the atelier with me.”

Biting back a smile, Remus’ amusement crept instead into his voice. “No, Prongs.”

“I’m not going to be a nuisance!” James said. Beneath his contact lenses his eyes were lying. “I actually need to go and meet with the cutter about my Hilarion costume.”

“ _Need_ to?” Remus queried, arching a dubious eyebrow. All the same, he clambered to his feet and hobbled into step with James.

Sirius joined them, raking his hair down. “Where are we headed, guys?”

Pure mischief, James grinned, “I have a meeting with the costumier.”

They walked together and Remus became very aware of Sirius’ proximity – the warmth of his exercised body, the weight of his smile. Touching light fingers to Remus’ elbow, he asked, “Why does everyone call you Moony?”

Remus drew away. “That’s not a story you need to hear.”

“It’s all thanks to me,” James interjected brightly. “The first time I met Remus I walked in on him putting on a dance belt.”

“And by walked in on,” Remus amended as Sirius gave a tiny squawk of laughter. “He means barged in without knocking because he had the wrong room. And four seconds later, Prongs, you announced you were gay.”

“I remember it perfectly,” James said. “Your beautiful caramel arse in the air and I just knew all at once. But he’s still never let me fuck him.”

“It was your gay awakening, not mine.”

Sirius was watching them very closely, eyes far sharper than his controlled tone. “And are you actually gay?”

James flapped an agitated hand at him. “Don’t bother me with labels, I cut them out of my shirts and everything.”

They reached the atelier, bright with glimmering fabric and stark lights, a violent contrast to the dim corridor. Blinking as his eyes adjusted, Remus trudged after James, who scooted towards a stand of costumes that were obviously from _Giselle_.

“Looks like we’re not getting new things this year,” James muttered, thumbing his way through the rack.

“We’re keeping the first-half budget for _Romeo and Juliet_ , Potter,” a clear female voice said. A moment later the head cutter approached them. “And no, I can’t tell you why because I don’t know. How are you, Remus?”

Before Remus could answer, James swept a hand through his hair and put on a winning smile. “Alright Evans?”

“I was until you got here,” she replied smartly, but Remus saw the softness glimmering at the back of her pretty eyes. “What are you after?”

“Just wanted to check my colouring against the Hilarion costume. In case it needs tweaking.”

“Hold on.” Stepping close beside him, Lily started shifting through the rack as well.

Another costumier approached, a sheaf of design papers spilling over his arm. His apathetic eyes were trained on Sirius. “Finally made some friends have you, Padfoot?” he drawled.

Remus glanced at Sirius, wondering at the nickname. Curious, James also spared them a glimpse. His eyes lit up.

“Good to see you too, Regulus,” Sirius said archly. “These are the guys I share a dressing room with. Guys, this is my brother.”

“You’re in our dressing room?” Remus asked, startled.

“Yes, Moony. Don’t worry, I’ve told him to keep his grubby paws away from your space.” James’ eyes sharpened, darting between Regulus and Sirius. “No way is this your brother. He’s so much prettier than you.”

“Watch your mouth Potter,” Sirius replied. Remus thought he heard a touch of genuine self-consciousness beneath the good-natured tone. “This look is my meal ticket.”

“My apologies,” James said, extricating himself from the costumes entirely and stepping towards Regulus. “So, you’re new. I’m James.”

“I’m _not_ interested,” Regulus said, resting against a table and glaring at James.

“Potter, stop harassing my team!” Lily snapped. Her colour was high.

“I’m just being friendly!” James said.

“Which is probably how half the _corps_ got the Clap,” Lily said, glaring at him.

“I’m squeaky clean, Evans,” James said with a cheeky grin. “I always dress for the occasion.”

A hurt confusion swam through Lily’s eyes and sympathy tugged at Remus’ heart. He put a hand on James’ arm. “That’s enough, Prongs.”

James glanced at him and relented. “Business before pleasure, huh? Let’s have a look then.” James grabbed his costume and held it up. Sweeping aside her uncertainty, Lily studied him. With a frown, she grabbed a book of swatches.

The afternoon was spent in rehearsals. McGonagall, taking advantage of Remus’ experience with the role, had assigned him to help coach the Albrechts. At least when Remus’ eyes pulled towards Sirius he could pretend to himself that it was professional.

Unfortunately, James noticed. He barely waited until they got home that evening to mention it, gleeful and sly. “So, you and Sirius, huh?”

“What?” Remus grumbled. He limped towards the kitchen. “I’m making tea, do you want a cup?”

“Don’t avoid the question,” James said, following him and promptly nudging Remus into a chair. Filling the kettle, he repeated, “You got a thing for Sirius?”

“I don’t think so,” Remus lied.

“I reckon he likes you,” James said, undeterred. “He was asking me little things, you know. Trying to be cool about it. But either he’s a fan ... or he fancies you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Remus muttered, tracing his fingertips against the wood grain tabletop.

“Oh trust me,” James said. “He’s as distracted by you as you are by him.”

l-l

“Mary looks amazing,” James murmured to Remus as they watched Flitwick faultlessly directing three casts of peasant _pas de deux_ dancers through their steps.

“Prewett doesn’t show her off as nicely as you,” Remus replied, head tipping sideways.

“That’s why he’s still a soloist,” James said, a competitive edge twisting his smile. “And I am not.”

“And here I thought it was because you partner her so often,” Remus suggested. “So that doesn’t give any benefit, huh?”

“Shut up, Moony.” James slipped an arm around him. “My point was, sometimes it’s nice to just sit back and admire, you know?”

“I do know,” Remus agreed. He felt something similar when watching Alice. They had danced together so often, Remus knew her body almost as well as he knew his own – the movements she struggled with, her aches and niggles. She had to relearn _Giselle_ to fit Sirius, and Remus nursed a vague guilt at having let her down.

Utterly striking, Sirius himself filled Remus with a reluctant awe. He was receptive to Remus’ input, staring at him with an intense, dedicated gaze. Outside the classroom he alternated between long silences and bouts of cheeky mischief. He was often with James, and often in the atelier and Remus avoided them both. He had enough to occupy his time.

But Sirius had a habit of showing up whenever Remus was feeling his most undignified. One afternoon, Sirius walked in as he was finishing a one-to-one rehabilitation session with Hooch. All lean confidence, Sirius’ welcoming smile made Remus immediately self-conscious. “Hey. Lupin.”

“You can go, Remus,” Hooch said. “I’m impressed with your progress.”

“If you’re done, come and have a chat with me,” Sirius said. He grabbed Remus’ crutch and offered it to him.

Catching his breath, Remus rubbed a towel down his damp muscles then snatched the crutch without looking up. He could feel the weight of Sirius’ gaze on him. It made him nervous. “Thanks,” he muttered, scowling at his broken foot as he slipped his arm into the brace. “What, uh ... did you want something?”

“Just to natter. I never seem to catch you alone, and in rehearsals I have to share your attention.”

Remus shrugged. “Don’t feel you’re missing out on anything, Sirius.”

Sirius’ tone changed. “Oh. Well, I only meant to be friendly.”

Swallowing, Remus finally glanced up. Sweaty and exhausted, he desperately wanted a wash and dry clothes before being faced with socialising.

Sirius’ expression was unreadable. “Not a good time, huh?” he asked, hooking an eyebrow up. “Well ... maybe we can hang out sometime? Outside of the studio.”

“Uh, yeah.” Grateful for an escape, Remus lunged at the opening. “That sounds good, I’ll let you know.”

He was sincere, but Sirius’ eyes turned stormy. “You do that,” he said in a dark tone, the edge of his mouth giving a sour curl. “See you later, Lupin.”

Remus puzzled at the reaction all the way home, realising far too late that Sirius might have been asking him for more than just to hang out.

l-l

After Remus’ hapless social fumbling, Sirius had made no attempt to talk to him outside of work again. If Remus paid him too much attention during coaching he scowled and brooded, taking instruction without reply.

Remus found himself focusing altogether too much on Sirius. Something was off about his rehearsals. His technique was flawless, he had the choreography learned, but Remus knew he was not dancing the part as well as he could be.

“You haven’t danced Albrecht before, have you?” he asked Sirius one day while he was warming up.

Sirius stopped working and eyed him sideways, hair shielding his expression. “No, okay?” he growled. “Not all of us have worked exclusively for excellent companies that cast regardless of appearance.”

Icy horror drenched through Remus’ veins. “I beg your pardon?”

Sirius froze, gnawing at his lip as he eventually turned to face Remus. His voice was earnest. “I didn’t mean you. I really didn’t. I wasn’t _allowed_ to dance Albrecht at my last company because they reckoned I don’t have the right look.”

A beat of silence fell between them. Frowning, Remus shook his head. “But that’s insane.”

Sirius shrugged and turned away again. “That’s how a lot of companies run.”

It sparked an odd sympathy in Remus. Wanting to make up for Sirius’ dismissive past, Remus paid him extra attention. Clearly unused to it, Sirius quickly became frazzled as Remus questioned his emotional motivations and pushed him through the steps.

By the time Remus gave up his crutch and boot in favour of a hard-soled shoe, Sirius had clearly had enough. “Lupin, have you got a minute? I want a word,” he barked one evening over the rustle of other dancers collecting their bags and cheerily heading for the door.

“Uh, sure,” Remus said, keeping his tone even despite his surprise. Sirius stretched against the barre while the room emptied, avoiding Remus’ eyes.

As soon as the last person tripped out of the room he reared back to his full, intimidating height and turned fiery eyes on Remus. “Right, what’s your problem? Why are you being an arsehole to me?”

“Sorry?” Startled, a thrum of anxiety pumped into Remus’ chest. “What problem?”

“ _Your_ problem,” Sirius barked. His eyes brushed aggressively down Remus’ body. “Why are you on my back all the fucking time? ‘ _Go higher in your cabrioles’_. I can only jump so high, I’m not a fucking machine! I think you just resent me.”

Gaping, Remus was too astonished to come up with a response. He tried to smooth his expression into something calm and reassuring, but it was damnably difficult because Sirius so _wrong_ it was laughable. “Resent you?” Remus echoed dumbly.

“I’ve got your role and your partner and you’re pissed about being injured. You’re taking your bad mood out on me because I’m new. And now you’re trying to make me look incompetent.” Sirius really was quite attractive angry. No matter what drove his energy, he shone when it was high.

The edge of Remus’ mouth fluttered with amusement as he tried to force down his laughter. “That’s not it at all, Sirius.”

“Is that right?” Sirius growled, eyeing him.

Remus scratched his curls back. “You can dance this part, Sirius. It’s not that hard.”

“Maybe not for you,” Sirius said, crossing his arms and leaning his weight against the barre. “You, with your epic _ballon_ and friends in the company and a regular partner. It’s all so easy for you.”

“It’s easy for you too,” Remus said, keeping his tone steady even though Sirius’ words hit him hard. It hadn’t occurred to him that Sirius, so vibrant and confident, might actually be lonely. “I’m trying to help you get the feel of it.”

Beneath his breath Sirius muttered something undoubtedly rude.

“You can do this, Sirius,” Remus repeated. Rubbing a finger over his lip, he paused for a moment, staring at his feet. He tapped his stiff shoe against the floor ... he felt strong from rehab and he was tired of inaction. “Here, watch me.”

Sirius’ eyes flicked up, words forming and dying unsaid on his lips as Remus ignored caution and twirled carefully across the empty room before launching himself into a variation.

He felt exhilarated.

Silent music thrummed a familiar rhythm through his mind as he adjusted the steps. The choreography didn’t matter, it was the character he wanted to display.

And it felt so good to move again. Adrenaline screamed into Remus’ blood, suffusing his chest with warm euphoria as everything faded except the feel of his body, the flex and pull of limb and muscle. Somewhere in the back of his mind the angry buzz of Pomfrey and Hooch and McGonagall voices railed against his disobedience – but nothing could compete with life-affirming energy of using his body the way he had trained it to be used.

Dancing made him feel alive.

Remus gave into his body’s beg to move, lost himself to it – and then he lost the feel of the floor and tripped on his stiff shoe. He collapsed in a flurry of heavy, graceless limbs, shock zipping along his nerves as he slammed into the floor. “... Fuck.”

“Hey.” Sirius crouched beside him, warm hands steady on his shoulders, easing him up. Unexpectedly gentle, he swept Remus’ hair out of his eyes. “Don’t reckon you’re supposed to be doing things like that yet, Remus.”

Disoriented, Remus leaned into his touch. They were so close he could smell Sirius’ hair, sweet and warm and herby. He couldn’t seem to make any words happen and merely replied with an embarrassed grunt.

“I really can’t wait to see you once you’re back in force,” Sirius continued. His hand ran a slow path down Remus’ arm, doing absolutely nothing to help him up. “You look amazing.”

“Oh,” Remus said, struggling to find some composure. Sirius’ breath ruffled his hair. “Well, I suppose I’ve undone weeks of healing in a single minute.”

“I hope not,” Sirius said, hand slipping across Remus’ chest.

“What, uh – what’re you doing?” Remus whispered.

Sirius froze. “Fuck. I was ... I was going to help you up, but then you leaned and I thought...”

Remus cleared his throat and edged away, trying to scramble up. “It’s okay. Not a good idea though, right? Especially with you cross at me.”

Sirius got to his feet and reached to help Remus up, wrapping an arm tight around his waist when he stumbled. Their eyes met and before Remus could pull back, Sirius kissed him.

His lips were the flavour of raspberry and coffee and were amazingly, astonishingly soft. Urging Remus closer, he smoothed their bodies together, hungry hands sloping over him.

Remus arched away, resisting the heady lure of Sirius’ inviting mouth. Sirius lunged after him, snatching him close again. His lips brushed a plaintive whisper against Remus’ own. “Oh, come on ... please?”

“No,” Remus said, but the single sound barely made it over his lips. He cleared his throat and tried again, more decided. “Sirius, no.”

Sirius stepped away from him so abruptly that Remus staggered. Annoyed, he threw Sirius a glancing scowl and got a haughty glare in return. “Why not?”

“Because I said no,” Remus snapped, righting himself again. He shoved both hands through his hair, shoving it back. “I don’t do casual sex with colleagues.”

“Casual,” Sirius echoed. His eyes were the colour of deep fog and just as impermeable. Disdainful, he watched Remus for a long moment then finally snatched up his bag and stomped towards the door. “Just lay off me in rehearsals, alright? It’s not fair.”

“I just want to show you off,” Remus said, unplanned words sliding through his lips.

Sirius stopped and stared at him, a disbelieving sneer twisting his face. “You’re going to say that to me now? You know what, Remus – go and fuck yourself.”

l-l

Despite his complaints, Sirius applied Remus’ suggestions to his performance with an almost alarming diligence.

“He’s trying to impress you,” James puffed at the end of one rehearsal, flicking Remus with sweat as he roughed a cloth over his head. Opening night was fast approaching and they were working long into the afternoons.

“He doesn’t need to impress me,” Remus murmured. “I know how good he is, I’m just trying to help bring out his best.”

“Uh huh,” James murmured. “Or are you trying to vicariously dance _your_ best through him?”

“Prongs, you are such an arsehole.”

James grinned and leaned in to kiss his cheek. His body was hot and damp and made Remus miss the exertion of rehearsal. He scuffed his foot miserably across the floor . Noticing, James slung an arm around him. “How long does Pomfrey reckon before you’re back in slippers?”

“Another two weeks,” Remus muttered.

“Hm,” James eyed him. “In time for next auditions, huh? That’s good, provided you don’t go into overkill trying to shape up.”

Irritated, Remus glared at James and snapped, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, home in the bath. C’mon then.”

James bodily marched him out of the studio. His instinct was good; in anticipation of his full return, Remus had been spending extra time in the gym, pushing himself through Pilates, favouring exercise over rest.

He had automatically resumed avoiding Sirius, who appeared happy enough to indulge him. As Sirius improved in rehearsals, Remus deflected his attention to the Albrechts and let McGonagall focus on the first cast.

Still, he could not evade Sirius all the time. At James’ insistence, Remus tagged along to a costume fitting one day. They reached the atelier to discover Sirius already there, shirtless under his _Danseur Étoile’_ hoodie, laughing with Lily.

“Ah, good.” Lily smiled when she saw them. “Sirius, I think we’re done. Over here please, Potter.”

“Anywhere you like, Evans,” James said politely. Following Lily, he glanced over his shoulder and gave a cheeky murmur, “Play nice, Moony.”

Remus spared him a filthy glare.

Sirius fiddled with the zippers on his hoodie and Remus’ eyes darted towards him, lingering on the tantalising stretch of exposed, pale skin. He looked away again, closing his eyes for a stabilising moment.

“You can say ‘hello’ to me, you know,” Sirius barked, and Remus heard genuine hurt beneath the obnoxiousness. “I won’t try and maul you.”

Remus’ heart thundered inside his chest. It made his voice rattle. “Uh, right. Sorry. Hi.”

“Hey,” Sirius replied softly. Braving another glance at him, Remus found Sirius watching him through tousled hair, expression smooth and unreadable.

Feeling awkward, Remus made a stab at conversation. “Where’s your brother?”

Sirius snorted. “I told him James was on his way down so he went to pretty himself up. Which one of them is he actually flirting with?”

“Both,” Remus said lightly. Talking about James was a balm to the tension between him and Sirius. “But he flirts with everyone.”

“Hm,” Sirius murmured. “So Reg has competition.”

“Not necessarily.” Remus shrugged.

Sirius hooked a thoughtful eyebrow and didn’t reply. He leant back and rested against Lily’s desk. “How’s your foot?”

“Oh. Uh, good. I can stop wearing the support shoe at the end of the week.”

“Excellent,” Sirius smiled, sweet and genuine. “I really can’t wait to see you move properly, you know.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Remus muttered without thinking.

But Sirius did not seem offended. Instead, his expression turned wry, shadowed with self-mocking. “It’s a strange thing, you know. Being gay in the ballet.” Startled, Remus stared at him. Sirius’ eyes locked with his as he continued. “I work in an industry that provides my biggest inspirations, rivals and potential boyfriends  ... sometimes all in the one pretty package. Do you know how confusing it is to look at someone and not know if you’re in awe of their ability, or jealous of it .... or whether it’s neither and you just really wanna jump their bones?”

“Not as such,” Remus admitted. Sirius’ candour impressed him.

Sirius barked a soft laugh. “Was I right about you resenting me? Is that why you put me off?”

“Oh god,” Remus sighed. He scrubbed a hand across his face and sank into a chair. “No Sirius. I’ve been ... embarrassed.”

Brow furrowed, Sirius crossed his arms and peered at Remus through his hair. “Why?”

“Your first impression of me was my being injured. Not exactly an even playing field.”

“Every dancer deals with injuries,” Sirius said, looking bemused. “I’m not going to judge you for that. Did you assume I would?”

Remus blinked across at him and decided against answering.

Sirius’ frown deepened. After a moment he murmured in a low voice, “I don’t understand you at all, Remus Lupin. Oh, but I would so very like to.”

A flush crawled boiling heat up Remus’ neck as he fumbled for an answer. “Goodness Sirius ... I’m no one special.”

Sirius’ gaze didn’t waver. He said simply, “I think you could be very special to me.”

Blood roared in Remus’ ears and drowned out everything but the pound of his own heartbeat. He barely heard himself mumble, “That’s an alarming thing to say.”

Sirius shrugged. “I’m not known for being appropriate.”

“You don’t say,” Remus agreed. Running his tongue over his lower lip, he abruptly changed the subject, seeking safer ground. “You never told me why you came here.”

“Oh,” Sirius said, giving him an amused, knowing look. Remus ignored it. “Well, I was with a pretty gross company. Luckily I had an in here.”

“Oh?” Remus glanced at him, surprised.

“Yeah, Reg got head-hunted. Our head of wardrobe took unplanned emergency leave last season. Reg stepped up and cut the entire production. Someone here saw his work, but he refused to shift unless they gave me an audition.”

“Wow,” Remus said, impressed. “Well, I can’t wait to see what he comes up with for _Romeo and Juliet_.”

“Yeah, right,” Sirius agreed, a small smile tipping the edge of his mouth. He fiddled his zippers again. “He makes my hoodies, you know.”

Remus cast a scornful eye over the arrogant garment. “Whose idea was that?”

“Mine,” Sirius grinned. A beat of silence stretched between them as Sirius chewed on his lip. Almost nervously, he said, “You know ... we were going to hang out outside of this place. You never got back to me on that.”

“Oh,” Remus said, dropping his gaze. “You still want to do that?”

Sirius snorted. “Yes, Remus. I still want to do that. I’d like to do quite a bit more than that, which you well know. I see you watching me. Why won’t you give me a shot?”

“Sirius, I told you...”

“What if it wasn’t casual?” Sirius said stubbornly. “What if I want more than just your body?”

Remus smiled sadly as he looked up again. “Then I might even say yes. But I don’t trust your motivations, Sirius. We barely know each other.”

Sirius’ eyes brewed dark as a night time storm. “So let me get to know you. C’mon, let’s go and get lunch together.”

Hesitating, Remus glanced across the room. “What about James?”

Scoffing, Sirius stepped towards him and slipped a hand around Remus’ elbow, urging him to his feet. “He’s got plenty to occupy him right here.”

l-l

Opening night had a feeling all its own. Nothing else generated the same energy within the company as the first performance. Frantic excitement filled the studio and Remus was glad to take refuge in their dressing room. He sat on his table as James and Sirius got ready.

James was subdued, staring intently into his mirror. Remus recognised the look – he was giving himself a silent pep-talk, mentally running through his scenes as he slicked down his unruly hair.

At his own space, Sirius stroked a finger down his jaw. “Goodbye skin,” he muttered. “I’ll see you in the spring.”

James snorted and gave Sirius an affectionate grin through the mirror.

“Here,” Remus said. Grabbing a pot off his table, he threw it across the room to Sirius, who spun his chair around and caught it effortlessly. “This might help.”

Sirius glanced at the container. “Thanks. What is it?”

Remus shrugged. “I have sensitive skin, this is the only thing that helps. I slather myself in this stuff during the season, it’s great on the feet too.”

Sirius unscrewed the lid and gave the pot an experimental sniff as a clatter of knuckles rapped against their door. “Yeah,” James called and the door creaked inwards. Alice’s made-up face appeared in the gap. “Alright, Macmillan?”

“Fine, Prongs. Moony, why haven’t you come to do my hair yet?”

“Shouldn’t Sirius do it?” Remus replied blankly. He only did Alice’s hair when they danced together, a quiet routine that let them get in touch with each other before taking the stage. But Sirius glared at him while Alice glowered from the doorway.

“Let me rephrase,” she said, voice brittle. “Help me with my hair and I’ll let you live.”

“Oh dear,” Remus said, biting back a smile as he slithered off his table. “Okay, Lissy. It’ll be fine, c’mon.”

The two other dancers in Alice’s dressing room didn’t even look up when Remus joined them. Slow and steady, Remus spoke calming nonsense as he twisted Alice’s hair back, dragging the routine out until the bright nerves calmed in Alice’s dark eyes. Smiling, she stood and hugged him. “Thank you, Remus.”

“Anytime, Lissy,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “Go warm up, I’ll find you before you go on.”

Leaving her, Remus wandered back to his own dressing room. Backstage was hub of activity – _corps_ dancers sewing their shoes, soloists humming through warm-up _plies_ , production staff moving with the seamless instinct of hive workers, costumiers racing about with last minute alterations.

When Remus returned, James was gone but Sirius was biting his lip and pacing the dressing room. His hair swung an agitated curtain around his face. “Oh, you’re back. Will you do my hair too?”

“What?” Remus blinked at him. “Really?”

“Well, you must be good at it. And you know how Albrecht should look and I’m running out of time...”

Remus almost laughed at his obvious jitters. “Alright, sit down. I know just what to do with it.”

“I’ve never danced with it this long,” Sirius muttered as he slid into his seat and glanced at Remus in the mirror. “And I hated always having to cut it. Is that wrong?”

Remus shrugged. “It’s just a question of priorities, right?”

“Right,” Sirius said, shivering as Remus’ fingers raked along his scalp. “I did what I had to so I could dance, but underneath all the characters I still want to be me. The hair is me.”

“Mm.” Remus leaned over Sirius’ shoulder and snatched up his hair pins. “We hear stories whenever we get visiting dancers: cut your hair, colour your hair, lose weight, bulk up... We’re lucky here.”

“Definitely,” Sirius murmured. Remus stuck a dozen pins in his mouth and began to tuck Sirius’ hair up, cleverly disguising the lengths. Sirius’ eyes drifted shut. “My last company insisted on weekly weigh-ins. But it should be about the dance, not the look, right? I mean, like you. You’re...” Sirius’ eyes flashed open and met Remus’ in the mirror.

Around the pins he mumbled, “Brown.”

“Right,” Sirius swallowed. “And Alice is...”

“Chinese,” Remus offered patiently.

“Yeah.” Sirius dragged in a deep, steadying breath. “The company I was with would never have promoted either of you. You would have been hidden at the back of the _corps,_ except in something like _La Bayadere_. I think that’s wrong.”

Remus smiled and slid the last few pins into Sirius’ hair. “Shake,” he instructed. Sirius did and Remus was satisfied. He reached for the hairspray. “ _La Bayadere_ was actually my first production as a principal, you know. I danced Solor.”

“I know,” Sirius said quietly, watching him with clear, keen eyes. “I went to see you. You were amazing.”

Unexpected gratitude warmed Remus’ blood. “Thanks,” he murmured. He doused Sirius with hairspray, coughing as he inspected his work. Finished, he stepped back. “I think you’re done. And you know, that’s something I love about this company. They look outside tradition and re-imagine the classics ... what’s wrong?”

Remus realised that Sirius was not following the conversation. He was chewing on his fingertips, smudging them with stage makeup. He jumped up and began to pace again.

“Why do you have blue pointe shoes?” he snapped abruptly, gesturing madly at the pair hanging from the corner of Remus’ mirror.

Taken aback, Remus watched him as concern crept chilling fingers across his skin. “Why’re you so nervous?” he asked.

Sirius scoffed. “This is your part. I’m going to fuck it up.”

“Sirius,” Remus said, injecting his voice with every scrap of calm he could muster. “You’re arrogant and self-assured and you’re going to be fantastic. Tonight is your night. Revel in it.”

Sirius stared at him for a loaded moment, then barked, “Let me blow you.”

“ _What_?” Remus blinked, bamboozled. “No.”

Sirius rushed at him, grabbed his coat with both fists. “What if I never get another chance to touch you?”

“Sirius, you’re not dying. Here, sit down.” Hiding his amusement, Remus smoothed his hands over Sirius’ and eased him back into his chair. He went to his dressing table and rummaged in a drawer, pulling his emergency bar of peppermint chocolate from the back. He pressed it into Sirius’ hand. “Eat this. You’ll feel better.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius snapped, eyes burning into Remus’.

Smiling, Remus ripped the bar open and broke off a piece. Meeting Sirius’ eyes, he gently slid the chocolate into his mouth. “Chocolate is friendly for the brain,” he explained. “And a minty mouth is good for confidence.”

A resounding knock thudded against the door. “Places! Ten minutes!”

Sirius nipped at his fingers. “My brother is obsessed with mint.”

“Mhm,” Remus murmured. Dropping to the floor, he rested his elbows on Sirius’ knees. “Do you normally get nerves?”

Sirius laughed, humourless. “Not like this. It’s pissing me off. Sucking your cock would be a great last-minute distraction.”

Blood pulsed into his groin in eager agreement.  Remus ignored it and offered Sirius another square of chocolate. “This is without a doubt, the most clumsy attempt at seduction I’ve ever received,” he said quietly, resting a finger against Sirius’ lip. “And there’s no way you’re going anywhere near my cock if I’m getting less than ten minutes.”

Slowly, Sirius closed his lips around Remus’ fingertip. With a smile, Remus pulled his hand away and stood up. Sirius watched him with brooding eyes. “Too bad,” he muttered at length. “I wouldn’t mind being out there with your taste in my mouth.”

Heat flooded up Remus’ neck and the chocolate tumbled from his hand. Clearing his throat, he stared down at it with wide eyes. “I’m, uh, going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he said. “But you win. C’mon, you’d better get out there.”

They wandered towards the stage wings in silence, Sirius smiling thanks as people offered encouragement. They passed James on the crosswalk and Remus gave him a quick hug before Sirius grabbed his hand and dragged him away.

Sirius fidgeted as they waited, fiddling with his costume. The orchestra surged into life, heralding the raising curtain. Alice raced passed, pale but beaming as she paused to hug Remus before rushing downstage.

With only a minute spare, Sirius turned to Remus. His eyes glinted in the dim light, intense emotions lining his face as he whispered, “Wish me luck.”

“Certainly not,” Remus replied.

Scowling, Sirius wrapped a hand through Remus’ hair and yanked him into a burning kiss. Brusque and hard, his mouth moved across Remus’ stunned lips, taking strength and releasing nervousness. His chocolate-stained tongue stroked once against Remus’ before he stepped back, apprehension suddenly and entirely gone.

Rattled, Remus pressed his lips together then murmured, “Chookas, Padfoot.”

Sirius grinned. “Thanks, Moony.”

He stepped onto the stage and immediately owned it. Sirius’ presence seemed to expand, filling the theatre with Albrecht’s perfect arrogance, slowly melted away by Giselle’s delicate naivety and the subtle cheekiness Alice danced her with.

They looked good together. Remus lost himself watching them.

During the curtain call, he slipped back to the quiet security of their now flower-swamped dressing room and waited. Finally, the door flew open and James bounded in, dragging a grinning Sirius behind him. “Ice cream!” he cried, swinging his arms around Remus’ head. “You too Sirius, it’s tradition.”

“What?” Sirius said, bemused.

“We always go for ice cream after our first performances,” Remus mumbled into James’ damp chest. “Have done since our _corps_ days. You’re officially one of the gang if James is inviting you.”

Sirius hesitated. “I have Reg with me.”

“Bring him, of course,” James said, releasing Remus and giving Sirius an incredulous look. He skipped towards their bathroom. “I’ll take the first shower while you fetch him.”

Once they were alone, Sirius glanced at Remus. “Did you watch?”

“Of course I fucking did,” Remus said, a bemused smile tugging across his face. “You were ... perfect.”

“Thanks to you,” Sirius said. He gave Remus a direct glance, pale eyes boring into him. “I want you to come home with me.”

Startled, Remus blinked. “Sirius...”

“I’m not asking you to, because I know what the answer will be. But I want you to know ... the offer is there.”

“A ... a standing offer?” Remus queried, baffled.

Sirius shrugged. “Standing, lying down ... whatever you want. You’re a frustrating jerk, Remus Lupin. But I really like you.”

Remus’ heart thrummed an erratic beat against his breastbone. “For godssake, Sirius. Can’t we just work together ... be friends?”

“If I thought we could then I wouldn’t be making a fool of myself propositioning you every time we’re alone together,” Sirius snapped as he sat at his space and reached for his makeup wipes. “But there’s something about you that I don’t want to give up on. Something in the way you look at me that tells me I shouldn’t.”

An indignant flush roared up Remus’ neck. “You really are amazingly arrogant, aren’t you?”

“Just a part of my fine charm,” Sirius murmured. He paused, then met Remus’ eyes and said, “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

Remus sighed, giving his head a reluctant shake. “No. But you are very irritating.”

Sirius flicked an eyebrow in agreement. “Are you rescinding my ice cream invitation?”

A smile touched Remus’ mouth. “James made that invitation, I can’t take it away. And he’d kill me if I prevented an opportunity for him to hang out with Reg. Anyway, tonight’s your night.”

“Thanks.” Sirius returned his grin and grabbed his phone from beneath a pungent bouquet. “I’ll text Reg and get him to come back. While we wait you can tell me about your blue shoes.”

l-l

Finally back in classes, Remus was already unbearably frustrated. He was strong, but had a total lack of coordination. Ignoring James’ encouragement and McGonagall’s approving nods, he spent his free hours practicing until his knees wobbled and his lungs felt ready to burst. _Romeo and Juliet_ auditions were only days away.

It was ghost day and the principals had spent their afternoon in photo shoots. Remus didn’t bother to change out of his company tights before slinking into an empty studio.  Already tired, he decided against routines in favour of setting up his music player and giving himself to freestyle movement.

Songs bled together as time got away from him. Pure, joyous escape permeated him, dragged him deeper with every step and spin and jump. Remus abandoned himself to it.

But freeform gave him no frame of reference for his limits. With his balance still shaky, fatigue finally caught up to him. Remus leapt and missed his landing, slipping on his newly healed foot. He hit the studio floor in a shock of exhausted muscles, music crackling through the storm of blood roaring against his eardrums. “Ahh, _fuck_!”

“You just insist on overdoing it, don’t you,” interrupted a soft voice.

Remus cringed as he looked around. Sirius was leaning just inside the doorway, watching him with undisguised admiration. He arched away from the wall and walked over, crouching beside Remus. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Remus sputtered, embarrassed. He scrambled to his feet, gingerly tipping weight into his foot.

Sirius straightened up. “It takes time to get back in peak shape, Remus.”

Annoyed that Sirius could read him so easily, Remus stalked away and snatched his music player up, killing the link to the studio speaker.

Sirius’ voice turned soft. “You looked amazing. Don’t stop just because you know I’m here.”

Remus paused. “How long were you watching?”

The edge of Sirius’ mouth quirked down. “Longer than you’d probably like. Look, if it’s that big a deal, I’ll leave. I don’t want you to stop because of me.”

“I just ... don’t need you to see me fall every _fucking_ time I start moving,” Remus spat. He glared down at his body. Hot and sweaty, he still wanted to keep working but knew better than to risk it. “It’s frustrating.”

“I’m not judging you,” Sirius reminded him.

Remus snorted. “It’s got nothing to do with that. I’ve trained for years to make my body do what I want and now...”

“Ohh,” Sirius said. His stormy eyes sharpened, meeting Remus’ gaze. “I finally get it. You have control issues.”

“That’s absurd!” Remus snapped, rearing back. “My control ... what kind of _dancer_...”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Sirius said, his voice dark but steady. He reached up and tapped Remus’ temple. “I mean up here. You have control _issues_.”

“I...” Remus gaped, struggling to find suitably affronted words as he swatted Sirius’ hand away. But Sirius’ expression was soft and calculating, looking at Remus in a way no one else ever had. It unnerved him. “Perhaps.”

The edge of Sirius’ mouth pulled sideways.  “It’s bigger than perfectionism, isn’t it?”

“I just...” Remus wandered towards his bag. It was easier to speak without looking at Sirius. “When I was really young, things were ... bad. My own body was all I really had. I was lucky I found dance.”

“You ever had an eating disorder?” Sirius asked gently.

Remus blinked, confused. “No.”

“You self-harm?”

“No!”

“So you keep control via something you love,” Sirius murmured at his back. “But you’re also fucking furious that your body’s let you down and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Remus froze as a crackle of ice washed over his skin. His blood burned a contrasting heat, searing shut the cracks in his crumbling mask. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sirius,” he said with a deliberate evenness.

“Don’t you want to let go?” Sirius asked, ignoring him. “Even just once, to know how it feels? You must be exhausted by now.”

“Only of listening to you,” Remus said, trying to hide a growing chasm of vulnerability behind a pleasant tone.

“I’m helping,” Sirius insisted. “If you learn to give up control on your terms maybe it will be easier when it’s taken from you.”

“Sirius.” Remus turned and glared at him. “I’m going to lose my temper with you very soon.”

“ _Good_ ,” Sirius barked, moving towards him. “Show me something real.”

Remus eyed him, taking in the hard lines of Sirius’ determined expression. He exhaled slowly and took a step away, but Sirius caught his shoulder, broad hands halting his retreat. “Sirius...”

“Why don’t you do something else physical that challenges your control?”

“What the fuck does that mean? Like what?”

Sirius shrugged so aggressively his hair flounced. “Like horse-riding. Or surfing. Or finally letting me fuck you.”

Remus’ music player skittered through his fingers and clattered to the floor. The atmosphere in the room shifted, sudden and precarious as the angry heat in his blood rearranged itself into need and span a distracting pulse downwards, without easing the thump inside his brain. “I am not giving you control of me,” he said without thinking.

Sirius’ eyes bored into him. His voice was low and enticing. “I’m not asking you to. I don’t want to control you, Remus ... that would be like putting an exotic creature in a gilded cage.” He slid fingers and thumb around Remus’ chin, studying him. “But I could show you. How it feels to completely abandon yourself.”

His mouth was so dry Remus could barely scrape the words out. “Why the hell would I do that? Why would you even think I’d like that?”

Flicking an apathetic shoulder, Sirius murmured, “I like it, with the right person. There’s a strange power in it. It’s not weakness.”

“Fuck you,” Remus snapped. “That’s not what this is.”

“Remus, I know that. But don’t you want to know how it _feels_ , even just once?” Sirius scraped starving eyes over him.

Shivering, Remus pushed Sirius’ hands off him. “For godssake, stop looking at me like that.”

Sirius’ hand looped around Remus’ head as he lunged forwards and kissed him hard. Remus whimpered in surprise; Sirius appeared to take it for an invitation. His tongue slipped across Remus’ lip, warm and beckoning, pleading him for something Remus was too eager to give.

His hands closed on Sirius’ body, half-wanting to push him back. But Sirius was earnest and generous, holding Remus firm against him as one hand skimmed down his belly. His fingers fanned across Remus’ pelvis; his dance belt was suddenly uncomfortably restrictive.

Sirius’ mouth dragged sideways, smooth cheek scratching over his stubble. “You need to shave,” he muttered, sounding distracted. His thumb swept down the edge of Remus’ cock.

Fumbling him back, Remus breathed, “Not – not here...”

“Come home with me then,” Sirius growled. He sucked on his lower lip and levelled Remus with a challenging glare.

“Yeah, and then what?” Even Remus was surprised by the bitterness in his voice. He took an unsteady step backwards and tried again. “What exactly are you asking me for?”

“Everything you’re willing to give me,” Sirius said genuinely. “For as long as you’re willing to give it.”

Startled, Remus’ eyes darted sideways – whatever he had expected, that was not it. Heart beating a painful rhythm, he nodded and reached for Sirius’ hand.

l-l

“Where’s your brother?” Remus dropped his satchel and rubbed trembling hands up his arms.

“Football training, we’ve got ages,” Sirius said as he shoved the door shut. He paused for a moment, gazing at Remus. “I’d offer you a drink but I really can’t wait to get you naked.”

“Oh Sirius, you’re so charming,” Remus drawled, rolling his eyes.

Grinning, Sirius tangled his fingers with Remus’ and dragged him down the hallway. “Shower first.”

The bathroom was cold and Remus hovered awkwardly as Sirius fussed with the taps. Steam began to pump into the room.

Turning back to Remus, Sirius gave him a puzzled look. “Why’re you still dressed?”

“Oh.” A nervous embarrassment shook along Remus’ nerves, but Sirius smiled. His hands skimmed up Remus’ sides, under the warm-up he’d donned before leaving the studio. With patient touches, Sirius urged him out of it, thumbs brushing his nipples. Remus gasped.

Hands sloping over his skin, Sirius slowly unbuttoned Remus’ suspenders. “You make tights look so good.”

“Shut up,” Remus muttered, shivering.

Sirius laughed and began to undress him, deft hands pawing him out of his layers. Remus had never been so relieved to get his dance belt off ... until Sirius stepped away, leaning back in a sway of sinuous muscle. Eyes raking over Remus’ nakedness, he sucked in a slow, sharp breath then sighed, “Oh, your body...”

A self-conscious flush burned across Remus skin, an ungracious part of his brain wondering if Sirius was judging his physique – but the dark width of his pupils reassured him.

Sirius’ fingers dragged across Remus’ hips, fitting into the arch of bone and muscle. They danced across his contours, sparks of a tingling delight igniting his nerve endings. “You’re so elegant,” Sirius murmured. “I’ve always felt really ... coarse. But you’re simply beautiful.”

Remus smoothed his hands over the breadth of Sirius’ shoulders, tracking appreciatively down his biceps. “You aren’t _coarse_ by any means. You’re the epitome of masculinity and you fucking know it.”

“Maybe off the stage.” Sirius shrugged, looking unconcerned. He nudged Remus towards the shower. “I want to see you wet.”

Glorious anticipation coursed down Remus’ spine as he slipped under the water. Heavy and blissful, the pressure strummed a pattering massage against his body. Sweeping his hair back, Remus blinked drops from his eyelashes and watched Sirius quickly get naked. Moments later he was under the water, surging against Remus and hauling their bodies together.

Sirius whispered something, his voice muffled into an indistinct white noise under the pound of the shower, and then his mouth was on Remus’, kissing him with desperate hunger.

Looping his arms around Sirius’ waist, Remus finally yielded to his desire.  His tongue slid into Sirius’ mouth, his taste mingling with the faraway tint of chemicals as the shower water dripped between them. Sirius clung to him, their wet bodies pressed hard together.

Remus pushed his cock against Sirius’ thigh, but he pulled back with a strangled whisper, water flicking from his lips. “Oh god, I want to fuck you so badly.”

Nerves spiked through Remus. He shuddered and mumbled, “You want me to submit.”

“No,” Sirius asserted. “I want you to _lose_ control, not hand it over. But if you let me, I’ll make it happen for you. Do you trust me?”

Covering his apprehension with mischief, Remus teased, “Not in the slightest.” Sirius scowled at him, unimpressed and quite formidable behind his sodden hair. Smile turning coy, Remus said, “Yes Sirius. I trust you. I wouldn’t even be here otherwise.”

“Good. It’s okay to be nervous,” Sirius said with a sudden gentleness, hooping an arm around Remus’ waist. He reached for a cake of soap.

It had been a long time since Remus had showered with somebody. Sirius rubbed soapsuds across him with deliberate touches, quivering when Remus did the same. Shoving Remus against the icy tiles, he slipped soapy fingers over his arse and skimmed them across his hole, spinning touches that sent tingling delight dizzying up Remus’ spine.

“Fuck,” he gasped, hands convulsing against Sirius’ body. Sirius huffed in reply, shifting his fingertip in a delicate circle. “Are we ... here? Or bed?”

“Bed,” Sirius grunted, leaning his forehead against Remus’ shoulder. “You won’t be able to stand by the time we’re done.”

“That sounds painful,” Remus murmured, pulling Sirius closer.

“I’ll be gentle,” Sirius promised. “Come on.” Barely giving Remus a chance to rinse off, he pulled him out of the shower and shoved him, sopping wet and dripping onto the floor, towards a bedroom.

Sprawling across the bed, Remus rolled onto his belly at Sirius’ urging. “I’ve wanted this...” Sirius whispered between dragging kisses down Remus’ back and sucking the water from his skin. “I never really believed you might...”

“Unh.” Remus pressed his face into the pillows. “I don’t make a habit of it.”

“Mm,” Sirius hummed. His tongue traced the contour of Remus’ hips. “Let me know if you want to stop. Otherwise, just lie there and let me do the rest.”

Remus shivered, apprehensive yet excited. Sirius filled him with wonderment.

His mouth shifted ever lower, a playful scrape of teeth against Remus’ arse before Sirius’ tongue dipped down his cleft and over his hole. Sucking a sharp breath, Remus arched against the mattress. He rocked into Sirius’ expensive sheets, a sigh of pleasure parting his lips.

Sirius echoed it, tiny sounds of appreciation vibrating against Remus’ skin with each slow shift of tongue. Arcing need zapped bright across Remus’ vision, body starving for more touch. When he chased after it Sirius paused, teasing him until desire and frustration burned hot in Remus’ veins. The seemingly eternal promise of _not enough_ eventually had him splayed facedown against the bed, growling unhappily.

Only when he stopped trying to get more did Sirius finally give it to him.

Craning towards the nightstand, Sirius grabbed a bottle of lube. He uncapped it and Remus shivered as it dribbled a cold trail down his arse. Sirius’ jaw nudged against Remus’ cheek, seeking his mouth in a breathless, eager kiss as he eased one slippery finger into Remus’ body. Waves of relief coursed along Remus’ spine.  His moans slipped over Sirius’ tongue and were lost in the welcoming heat of his mouth.

Nothing existed outside the scuff of expensive linens and the feel of Sirius overtaking him. Giving, instinctive kisses warped around the low sounds of need that cracked up Sirius’ throat and over Remus’ lips. His patient touches stoked equal need in them both, and Remus rocked against the slide of Sirius’ fingers, hips tipping forcefully.

Sirius shifted. He broke the kiss and whispered, “Relax. Just let me take care of you.”

Frustrated, Remus’ words were half-mumble, half-groan. “I’m not used to this, you’re driving me crazy.”

Sirius’ chest pressed against Remus as he took a heaving breath. “Okay, okay...”

Smooth and slow, Sirius lingered over another kiss before shifting against him – fingers and legs and torsos all in different places, and then his cock slowly, slowly easing into Remus. Wincing at the odd feeling of _wrongness_ as Sirius entered him, Remus puffed steady-paced breaths into the sheets. Gradually, he adjusted ... and was instead overwhelmed by need and pleasure and emotion.

Sirius absorbed his every sense.

“You alright?” Sirius breathed unsteadily against his shoulder. “Am I hurting you?”

“Fine,” Remus mumbled, curving towards him. “Fuck me already, won’t you?”

Sirius grunted an amused, aroused noise and rocked his hips very slowly against Remus’ arse. His hand scraped around Remus’ hip and grasped his cock, giving it a slow, firm tug.

“ _Ohh_...”An audible breath slid through Remus’ teeth. “Finally.”

Sirius chuckled and kissed the arch of his shoulder blade. “You feel fantastic.”

Groaning, Remus thrust impulsively back against him. Cursing under his breath, Sirius steadied him again.

There was no trace of Sirius’ customary arrogance in bed. His fingers traced worshipful, adoring patterns across Remus’ body as he sucked bruising kisses into his neck. Filled with feverish hunger, Remus twisted around to meet his kiss. Breathless cries slipped into his mouth and Remus swallowed them.

Sirius’ wandering fingers skimmed his nipple and Remus gasped, teeth accidentally snapping around Sirius’ lip as a thrill of pleasure rippled across his skin. Sirius groaned as Remus’ body tightened. “Oh god, Moony...”

He replied with an inarticulate sound, pitching after the bliss rolling a slow, hot wave along his spine, liquefying his insides. Physical instinct swallowed Remus, his awareness comprised of fractured body parts – the shift of Sirius’ hands, the heat of his mouth, the pressure of his hard body.

Alive with desire, together they fuelled a whirl of building desperation. Remus chased release, writhing against Sirius until he was right on the brink...

And Sirius stopped.

“ _Argh_!” Fire drenched Remus’ over-stoked nerves. “Sirius, what the hell are you _doing_?”

Sirius’ voice trembled, fragile with the echo of his own need. His fist gripped Remus’ cock tight, holding him away from release. “Asking you,” he muttered, “to let go. And then I’ll give you what you want.”

Terrified but enticed, the words struck the right chord at a vulnerable time. Giving into his need, Remus hid his face against the bed and surrendered.

Sensitive and primal, Sirius dragged slow pleasure from somewhere deep inside him, teasing and pulling until every part of Remus’ body was shaking and fraught. Something like insanity roared across his brain, fists tearing the sheets away from the mattress as his body slipped, sweat-drenched, beneath Sirius’.

Arching against him, Remus sought Sirius’ kiss again. Wide-mouthed and breathless, they drank each other in and then there was absolutely nothing that would have been able to stop it – orgasm consumed Remus in a boiling tide, his teeth sank into Sirius’ lip and he came in hard waves, blinded behind dazzling spirals of silver light.

Sirius whimpered into his mouth, swearing vibrantly when Remus ripped away from him, gasping broken breaths. With sudden rigid jerks, Sirius came too, clinging fingers kissing bruises into Remus’ skin.

“Far out,” Sirius whispered, dropping against him. He sucked tender kisses across Remus’ shoulders and gently withdrew from him, fumbling towards the nightstand again.

His absence left Remus cold and the space was filled with a wave of dark, indistinct emotions that tore through Remus’ belly, ripping him open. He shuddered into the mattress as the last ribbons of bliss wove away and were replaced by something empty and gaping.

“I have to go,” Remus blurted, throwing himself off the bed, reaching for clothes that weren’t there. “I...”

“Hey, stop,” Sirius barked. Wrapping an arm around Remus, he pushed him down again. Soothing fingertips rested against his cheek as Sirius raked dark eyes over him. “Where are you?”

Eyes falling shut, painful words tore themselves from deep within Remus. “I don’t know...”

“Fuck,” Sirius muttered. He curved around Remus, warm limbs stilling his shivers. “Hold on to me, Remus. I have you.”

Grabbing him, Remus pressed his face into the fall Sirius’ hair, showering himself in soothing darkness. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Oh fuck off,” Sirius said, very gently. “I should be apologising, I didn’t even _think_... but you’re okay, Remus. You’re safe with me. C’mon, lie down again.”

Uncomplaining, Remus let Sirius ease him into a tangle of resting limbs. He breathed into the raw emotional terror until the breach filled and smoothed over again, Sirius’ hands moving strong and steady over his body. He held Remus secure, humming a song into his hair.

It was drastically intimate.

Remus wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he was drifting somewhere amongst the unexpected emotions and pure unconsciousness when the echoing slam of the front door sounded. “I think your brother’s home,” he grunted.

“Yes,” Sirius agreed, tightening his grip for a few blessed seconds before releasing Remus. Levering himself up, Remus blinked at Sirius through the damp curls knotting across his vision. Smiling up at him, Sirius asked gently, “Are you okay?”

Nervously meeting his eyes, Remus nodded. “I think so.”

Sitting up, Sirius skittered warm arms around his shoulders. “We can stay in here as long as you need.”

“I’m okay, I promise.” Remus curved one hand down Sirius’ flank. “But I don’t want to do that again anytime soon.”

Sirius hummed sadly. “Not the response I wanted after taking you to bed.”

“Oh,” Remus said, awkwardly making an attempt at reassurance. “Well, I mean ... some parts of it I’ll be happy to repeat.”

Sirius met his eyes with a sharp, frank gaze. “Do you promise?”

Remus leaned in and rested their foreheads together. “Yes Sirius. I promise.”

Sirius kissed him, earnest and inviting, one hand folding through Remus’ hair. There was an alluring offer in his touch and Remus dived after it, relaxing into sweet and indolent touches. They soothed his frazzled emotions and reminded his body that there was still plenty of nakedness to take advantage of. Remus stroked a hand lazily across Sirius’ hip, absorbing the perfect softness of his skin.

Sirius edged away. With a fractured sigh, he swept a thumb tip across Remus’ lip, something dark and idolatrous gleaming in his eyes. “Not yet.”

Pressing his mouth against Sirius’ palm, Remus smiled. “Okay. I can wait.”

Sirius snorted. “I’m well aware. C’mon then.”

Remus watched openly as Sirius scuttled off the bed and crossed to the wardrobe – all long limbs and hard muscle, dark hair tangling across his shoulders. He gave a low whistle of appreciation, and in reply Sirius threw him a cheeky grin and a pair of yoga sweats.

Ten minutes later Remus was draped in one of Sirius’ obnoxious _Danseur Étoile_ hoodies and soft, expensive casual wear. The over-sized clothes felt safe as he followed Sirius into the drawing room, a subtle wave of nerves trickling down his spine when he spotted Regulus.

He glanced up from his book looking perfectly indifferent. “Evening brother. Remus.”

“Alright, Reg,” Remus greeted, relaxing at Regulus’ easy welcome. Immediately, he felt less like a conspicuous booty call.

But Regulus next words surprised him. “Sirius finally managed to pull you, huh? Maybe now he’ll stop rhapsodising about you to me.”

“Shut up, Reg,” Sirius grinned.

“In anticipation of your post-coital needs,” Regulus said, ignoring him. His tone was a marvel of disinterest, but his eyes were kind. “I ordered KFC. Delivery shouldn’t be too long.”

“KFC delivery,” Remus murmured, arching an amused eyebrow at Sirius.

“Yeah, I’m more of a pizza guy myself,” Regulus said and turned back to his book.

Sirius looped an arm around his waist, smiling. “Don’t you have a favourite post-sex food, then?”

Remus shrugged. “I typically skip straight to dessert.”

“Yeah, I can believe that,” Sirius said. “C’mon, sit down.”

Shortly after, Remus was curled in an armchair nibbling chicken and wondering just how much grease he was consuming. “This is the ingredients of premature death, you know.”

“But so very tasty,” Sirius replied dismissively, tearing into the flesh like a ravenous animal. Chewing, he fixed Remus with a considering look.

Fidgeting, he asked cagily, “What is it?”

“I’d like to dance with you,” Sirius said.

Remus blinked, startled. “Well. I mean, I’m sure we will. Auditions are on Monday.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Sirius snapped. He shook his head, loose hair scattering across his face. “I want to dance with _you_. Just you. You were brilliant with the rehearsals – you could choreograph something for us.”

“I’m not a choreographer,” Remus blurted, stunned. “I just coached a part I know. It’s incredibly different.”

“Yeah, but I was watching you today. You have an instinct for it, the way you move to the music. Let’s do a dance cover together.”

“Sirius...”

“That Sam Smith song,” Sirius said, his voice becoming soft with hope. “The one you had on today. We could dance that together.”

Remus’ heart rapped staccato against his ribs. “That’s a pretty ... intense song, Sirius.”

“I know." Sirius’ eyes were clear as glass as they locked with Remus’. "When can we start?”

l-l

“Moony!” Alice leapt into Remus’ arms and pressed thrilled lips against his neck. “We got first cast for _Romeo and Juliet_!”

“What?” Remus grabbed her, surprised. “But ... I’m only just back, how can we be first?”

“Because you’re wonderful and the studio knows they need to feature you, that’s why. Oh, I’m so glad.” She squeezed him tight and Remus huffed.

“Didn’t prefer me after all, huh?” Sirius interrupted, joining them.

“Sorry Padfoot,” Alice said, releasing Remus and gracing Sirius with her excited smile. “But you can’t improve on perfection.”

“Alice!” Remus rubbed an embarrassed hand across his brow.

“Don’t be coy, Moony. I quite agree with her,” Sirius said, swinging them both into a quick hug. “We all get to die together.”

“Who are you dancing?” Remus asked, glancing at him curiously.

“I’m your Prince of Cats,” Sirius grinned. He swept a hand over his head, flicking his hair out. “Minnie says my hair is going to work for me on this one. Apparently we’re doing something rather special.”

“And what about James?” Remus asked.

“He and Mary are starring in the second cast,” Alice said, leading the way into barre class.

Sirius held him back as Remus made to follow her. His voice was unusually taciturn. “We’re still going to do our song cover, right? You killing me on stage does not count as us dancing together.”

Remus eyed him and smiled. “It absolutely does.”

“Remus.”

Relenting, he sighed. “Yes, Sirius. We will still dance together. Just you and me. To Sam Smith. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sirius agreed. He reached for Remus’ hair, twisted a curl around his fingertips. “D’you know, Moony, there were a lot of reasons I wanted to get into this company ... but I didn’t expect you.”

A crease tightened Remus’ brow. He coiled his fingers around Sirius’ wrist. “I thought you knew I was here.”

Sirius snorted. “I did; that’s not what I meant. I didn’t expect _you_ , all neurotic and anxious and sexy. You’re really just amazing.”

Remus’ neck burned hot. He looked away from Sirius’ candid grey gaze. “Right.”

Sirius kissed him, deep and sweet, lingering against him with ardent touches. Finally he tipped their foreheads together and whispered, “I didn’t expect you to be the best part of this company.”

“Well,” Remus dragged in a bracing breath, thumbs rubbing vague circles in the small of Sirius’ back. “You haven’t given me time to disappoint you yet.”

Sirius laughed, breath warm against Remus’ cheek. “I’m quite happy to give you as much time as you need if it means you’re sticking around.”

“Sounds fair,” Remus agreed. He brushed his nose against Sirius’ ear. “I’ll fuck up our song, shall I? Because I’m not a choreographer and I have no idea how to design a dance for us.”

“Liar.” Sirius hummed, throat vibrating against Remus’ skin. “Like it even matters anyway, Moony. It’s you and me. That’s all it needs to be perfect.”

 

 

_With this much desire together we’re winners_

_Don’t let them ruin our beautiful rhythms_


End file.
